Chasing Horizons



Chapter Eight

DISCLAIMER :: This tale is relative to Captain Marvel from the comics, movies, and television from Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. There are some glaring differences, so this is a derivative work rather than straight-up fanfiction.


Author's note: The response to the last chapter was better than expected. Thanks for the feedback, everybody. On with the show, right?

I hate shopping. I’ve always hated shopping.

The next morning, Laura hopped in the driver’s seat of her SUV. Hannah called shotgun. Chris and I positioned ourselves in the mid-row seats. The ride was fine. I wasn’t used to being a passenger. It almost felt like the ride to the mall was some kind of metaphor for my life, right now, insofar as I wasn’t in the pilot’s seat. I was along for the ride. The worst part is that I had time to actually notice certain things. The seatbelt didn’t sit right across my thighs and it crossed my body while settling into a particular valley. The seat felt too low and the portholes sat too high. Everything was off.

I’m not an idiot. I had noticed these things in my truck, but I could file those away because I was focused on the task of operating the vehicle. Now, they took formation front and center. There was no opportunity to file them away to continue avoiding later. Everything was wrong.

It’s always been funny to me that a majority of guys would say that if they were to awaken with a female body one morning, they’d spend the whole day fondling themselves. Entertaining that outlandish claim, it would only make sense that experience might last a couple of hours. Then what, genius? Now you’ve got to navigate life like that. The long-term consequences would never compute in their minds. That day was my forty-eighth day in the body of a female teenager. I was in hell.

Mercifully, Laura drove the SUV into a parking spot at the Woodfield Mall — the same one she’d taken Chris to over a month ago. I was happy to unclasp the seatbelt and climb out of my sister’s suburban assault vehicle. Laura, Hannah, Chris, and I regrouped at the rear and discussed the mission as we walked toward the entrance. Laura and Hannah would serve in an advisory capacity and Chris would provide moral support. Our first objective was to get some measurements taken, according to Laura. This would inform decisions going forward. When I opened my mouth to ask why the measurements were needed at all or why we couldn’t just pull things off the shelves that looked like they might fit, everyone laughed at me.

“I would love to tell you that was a great idea,” Chris chuckled, “but I shall not tell lies. Clothes are more complicated than they used to be and nothing is standard. Trust the ladies on this one.”

With a confused expression on my face, they led me through the gigantic corridors of the tri-level interior shopping space. My sister was at the helm, leading us through the crowds as if they were turbulent seas. She stayed true to her heading. It happened to be a shop that sold some formal wear but was mostly focused on alterations. She requested a fitting measurement session for me. She used an excuse about a recent growth spurt and none of my clothes were fitting anymore. I’d have phrased it more as a shrink spurt that caused all my clothes to become entirely ill-fitting, but that’s why I wasn’t doing any of the talking.

Moments later, I was led into a room by an Asian woman who smiled frequently. Nobody but her was in the room with me. Away from the others, her requests became biting. She had me remove everything but my underwear. Standing there topless, my eyes wandered to the full-length mirror in front of me. It was the first time my eyes had really taken in what had happened to my body. One thing became abundantly clear: the mirror and I were not going to be friends. I could barely see the woman running around me with her measuring tape and meticulously taking into account whatever measurements made sense to her. My eyes didn’t leave the surface of the mirror. The image reflected back at me could not be denied, whether I liked it or not.

The woman had to tap my shoulder to let me know she’d done her measurements and I could get dressed once more. I didn’t hesitate. Fully clothed in my go-fasters, PT trousers, PT shirt, and bomber jacket, I joined the others in the shop. One of them was missing.

“Where’s Chris?” I inquired.

“She had to go to the bathroom,” Laura lied, then proceeded to pay for the woman’s services.

Hannah pulled me to the side and whispered directly into my ear. “Dad does that a lot. One second, he’s here. The next second, he’s zipping off somewhere. People never notice because he’s so damn fast. He told us there was something he had to handle and he’d be back with us as soon as possible.”

“The superhero thing?” I whispered back.

“Yes, the superhero thing,” Hannah confirmed.

Laura rejoined us with a whole sheet of paper. Apparently, the woman had gone above and beyond. I hadn’t even noticed she’d taken measurements for my shoe size. Laura’s plan of attack began to become apparent when we started cruising the shoe stores. She intended to help me build things from the ground up. Mercifully, she stayed away from styles or colors that might scream femininity into the aether. I was thankful my sister knew me so well when she started bringing me running shoes in muted styles and colors. They wouldn’t scream “girl” or “woman,” but they would fit my feet properly. The slip-in shoes she was recommending were incredibly practical and efficient. We walked away with a couple of pairs of those. Laura tried to pay for them like she was acting like my mother or something, but I refused to let her get away with that. I flashed my own card and paid for the purchases. Of course, when I spotted the Doc Martens outlet, it was over. After wearing boots almost exclusively for more than twenty years, the style seemed to be right up my alley. The black and red-brown colored ones spoke to me the most.

Hannah shrugged at me as I was going a bit crazy in the store. “Well, good news: nineteen-nineties and Y2K fashion is really making a comeback, right now. You won’t be a complete social outcast.”

My eyes darted over the shelves, reading over styles and sizes. “I’m not looking to be fashionable, Hannah. I’m looking to be comfortable.”

Hannah scoffed but spoke softly. “Uncle Sam, if you hadn’t noticed, girls are under a lot of scrutiny. Do you want to move through the world like a covert operation or go full front-line offensive?”

I finally turned my head toward her. “How do you… ? What are you talking about?”

She sighed. “Look: the world isn’t exactly friendly toward trans people right now. I’ve known you my whole life, Uncle Sam. You’re never going to fully accept what’s happened to you and I’m never going to say that you should. You’re very much a ‘man’s man’ kind of guy, but not in the toxic way. If you try to stick with your old way of doing things, you’re going to be scrutinized pretty heavily. Are you ready for the onslaught or do you wanna fly under the radar?”

“What kind of onslaught are we talking?”

“Questioned every time you just want to pee. Getting violent threats from people you’ve never met. Being attacked and physically assaulted by people you’d never give the time of day. Maybe even rounded up and put into a camp.”

“You really think that’s going to become a reality?”

“You got forced out of the Marines because some space particles turned you into what you are now, right? If they can be that petty, how deep do you think it goes?” She let out a heavy, quick breath. “I’ve got a friend who’s a trans guy. He’s scared shitless. Most of the people he knows are, too. So, he’s staying pragmatic about things. He hates it, but he’s keeping himself mostly femme-presenting so he doesn’t draw too much attention to himself. It sucks, but sometimes that kind of thing might be necessary. He’s flying under the radar. Nobody says ‘put the dress on’ or ‘slather on the makeup’, but with some strategic tomboy tactics, he keeps himself comfortable and safe. I wanna help you get there, too. Maybe don’t fight me so much?”

“Did you do the same thing for your dad?”

It appeared that I hit a nerve. Her face contorted in an odd way. “We weren’t talking at the time. I was going through some shit. Mom handled it.”

I slowly nodded, beginning to understand some of how the family got to this point. “Yea, I can see how the whole situation would fuck up the family dynamics. I won’t pry, okay? It’s not my place.” Letting out a sigh, I moved a step closer to her and kept the same low whisper tone. “Thanks for coming along and executing a textbook cranial-rectal inversion. I’ll trust your advice and not snap at you from here on out.”

“Good.” Hannah tapped the display shoes. “Get anything but the smooth leather if you don’t wanna wait three to six weeks to break in the shoes. Their shoes last for thirty years for a reason, but breaking them in takes time. A friend of mine tried them based on a trend and they hurt her feet. Patience is a virtue with these babies.”

“I know. Had two pairs in the nineties. Your mom was jealous as hell.”

The conversation got lighter from that point forward. It was readily apparent that my niece was still battling some things, but her heart was still made of gold. The sales associate rang up my two pairs of the standard 1460 boots, one brown pair of the Combs boots, and two pairs of Embury boots that Hannah had suggested. The slip-on style of the Embury boots was in the “Crazy Horse” leather that wouldn’t require the long break-in procedure. It was the softer stuff, not the harder “smooth leather” of the others. My sister nearly fainted over the price for five pairs of boots, but I didn’t flinch. Generally, I didn’t spend much money, so my bank account wasn’t going to feel the sting of $200 per pair of boots.

Not wanting to carry bags with nine pairs of shoes, Laura felt it was necessary to take a small break to take the shoes back to the car. No one disagreed. Once they were secured in the trunk, we headed back into the mall. Chris seemed to appear out of nowhere and rejoin us. Laura and Hannah passed it off as nothing. It took me by surprise.

“Maybe say something before you appear out of nowhere, next time?!” I nearly shrieked.

“Sam, please keep your voice down.” Chris pleaded in hushed tones. “I can move incredibly fast and it makes returning to the family like I was never gone easier. I’m sorry for startling you.”

“I’m just not used to anyone being able to do that,” I admitted.

“Neither were Laura and the girls. It’s been a while since anyone new has had to adjust. I’m sorry. I should have warned you.”

“Where’d you go, anyway?”

Chris shrugged. “Back to the house to get my suit, then over to a building fire on the south end of the metro area. After that, I got back to the house, took off my suit, then ran back here. Thankfully, I was able to meet you guys out here rather than trying to find you in the mall. What’d I miss?”

“Shoe shopping,” Laura and Hannah chorused.

“What’s next on the agenda?” Chris wondered.

“Underwear,” Laura answered plainly.

Chris and I exchanged a glance. His girlish face was formed into an expression that wondered if I was ready for what was to come. Mine bore an expression of trepidation. He gently tapped my shoulder in a way that conveyed his sympathies. That only made it worse.

Realistically, the experience was fine. Laura’s instinct was to head for Victoria’s Secret, but Hannah suggested Aerie. Apparently, it skewed toward a younger audience and more comfort rather than sex appeal. Hannah was also thankful that the shop didn’t airbrush their models like other establishments. Once inside, it was Hannah who took the lead. She really had my six with the recommendations she was making. She grabbed bottoms, tops, one set of sleepwear, some workout gear, a bunch of socks, and something called “yoga bras”. She was thorough.

After that, we decided to take a break and head for the food court. We all grabbed our food independently and regrouped at a table large enough to accommodate all of us. Laura found the salad, somehow. Hannah and Chris each had a burger. I grabbed some teriyaki chicken. As usual, I practically inhaled my food and sat back while the others finished. I’ve learned that is very much a veteran thing. To me, it was normal. It did feel strange to be finished eating long before my sister, my niece, and my brother-in-law.

“So,” Laura broke the awkward silence, “how long were you planning on staying, Sam?”

Sitting back in my chair, I shrugged. “I didn’t actually have a plan to stay very long at all, really. I didn’t plan to stay last night, if I’m being honest. I’m not imposing, am I?”

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Laura defended herself. “I was just getting a feel for how long the visit was.” She let out a sigh and slumped back in her seat. “Have you got somewhere to go back in L.A.?”

“Yea. A buddy of mine from way back in my early service has given me a place to lay my head while I figure out what I’m gonna do. The retirement came on pretty suddenly and, as you know, I haven’t really ever had a civilian life.”

“That’s what I was worried about. Who’s this buddy of yours?”

“The corporal I pulled out of a nasty situation back in Afghanistan. I’ve told you about Dizzy.”

She paused to look up at the ceiling in thought for a moment. “Oh, right… Dizzy. He runs that community center near downtown, doesn’t he?”

“Yep. Same guy.”

“What kind of community center?” Hannah joined the conversation.

“A spot for natives and Hispanics to work out some things, mainly. There would probably be some after-school programs if it weren’t the beginning of summer, I think. I don’t know for sure. I was just settling in when I saw the stuff from ‘No Kings’ on TV.” I admitted.

“Sounds like a great spot to land. You could probably make a difference there.” Chris chimed in.

“How so?”

“Well, you’ve got twenty-three years of dedicated military experience to draw upon. You could teach them some pretty valuable life skills, I’d think. You don’t have to put on one of those ‘Smokey The Bear’ hats to teach the next generation something invaluable.”

“It’s called a campaign cover, Chris. It’s only authorized for specific training purposes and it’s incredibly rare to see an officer wearing one.”

“You know what I mean, Sam,” Chris grumbled.

“Kris has a point, Sam. You could serve as a point of order in a world of chaos for the kids in the neighborhood. I wouldn’t suggest turning into a drill instructor, but a good teacher wouldn’t go amiss.” Laura covered his six. “Wasn’t part of your job being a mentor? You could do something similar. It could be like getting a piece of your life back, y’know?”

“Yea, I mean… take it from a kid you taught a few things growing up: you wouldn’t suck at it, Uncle Sam,” Hanna added.

“I would also add that there’s probably a lot of people, especially kids, that are afraid right now.” Chris felt like informing me. “With the ICE raids and whatnot, the people in those neighborhoods likely aren’t feeling all that great. Maybe you could provide some stability and a level-headed approach to things they hadn’t considered before.”

“Be some kind of hero? I don’t think I’d look all that great in a cape. It’s really not my style.” I smirked.

“Not what I was suggesting, Sam. Besides, not all heroes wear capes. Most of my heroes wear uniforms that don’t include a cape.” Chris clarified.

My lungs released a lot of air. “There’s merit to what you’re saying. I was already going to lend a hand with some handiwork Dizzy might not be able to get to. Fixing pipes and such.” I shrugged. “A lot of the butter bars come out of OCS and flight training pretty green. They usually don’t know their ass from a hole in the ground… and they’re in their mid-twenties. A good leader can spot strengths and weaknesses pretty quick, then respond accordingly. From what I saw, though, these kids aren’t there for a job. They’re just there looking for something to do.”

Laura lifted her fork full of salad toward her face. “Then maybe you could help them find purpose.” She proceeded to shove the bite of salad in her mouth to punctuate her statement.

I scoffed. “Gotta start with me first. The Corps was my life. I’m flipping fore over aft here.”

“Why didn’t you ever get married or have kids, Uncle Sam?” Hannah set down her burger to inquire. The whole table fell silent. Laura already knew why. Chris was trying to decide if he should scold his kid for even asking.

“Orders came down from on high. Wasn’t my billet, kiddo.” I punctuated my statement with a sip of my soda. It was a question I didn’t want to answer.

“Okay, but why?” Hannah asked again.

Laura gently placed her hand atop Hannah’s. “Not the time, sweetheart. Your uncle gave you the answer. Please leave it alone for now.”

Hannah visibly slumped. “Oh… it’s bad. Sorry, Uncle Sam.”

I nodded to her. “You didn’t know. Maybe someday I’ll tell you. That day is not today, okay?”

She nodded meekly. She didn’t pick up her burger again.

“So… what’s next on the list, honey?” Chris wondered, desperately trying to change the subject.

“Probably a mountain of jeans and T-shirts, knowing Sam like I do. We’ve got everything else.” Laura reported, finishing her salad.

When everyone was finished, we bused the table and continued on with our day. The general feeling was tied to forgetting about the question that was too personal and trying to do something pragmatic. After a while, the clouds did clear and we were back to our usual banter. It’s nice that otherwise occupying the mind can help forget discomfort.

I lost count of how many articles of clothing I tried on and how many stores we’d visited. We seemed to dart in and out of department stores like a unit trying to clear a building. Laura and Hannah were at the helm. Chris and I were simply trying to hold the rigging to survive the squall. We’d pull into a port and I’d shuffle through the suggestions brought by my sister and niece. Thankfully, I had veto power. I’d turn away or accept the suggestion, then we’d take the selections to the fitting room. Inside, I would ensure the clothing item fit me, then decide whether or not I could stomach wearing it. Few suggestions passed my review, but we made our way to the register when something did. My card was used to purchase every item.

With all said and done, we all walked out of the mall with both hands laden with bags from a variety of shops. I had approved a few pairs of jeans, several T-shirts, a couple of tank tops, and one sweater. Three bundles of standard, crew-length socks were added to the haul. I’ve never owned so many pairs of socks. The sun was getting low on the horizon and I felt like I’d endured a short bivouac. I asked myself, ‘Is this how young women stay in shape without a PT regimen?’

The conversation on the way back to Chris and Laura’s was full of camaraderie. It had been my first experience of collecting a wardrobe. It was Chris’ second outing like this. Hannah and Laura were the professionals. We all knew we’d been through an ordeal. Waiting for us at the house would be Madison and Olivia, who both offered to help carry things into the spare bedroom with the rest of us.

It was decided that it was a perfect night to order pizza and watch a movie. I had only one request: no Marvel movies or superhero flicks of any kind.